


crying over broken glass

by smallredboy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Crying, First Kiss, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Nightmares, Secret Crush, Self-Worth Issues, Trans Juan "Alvie" Alvarez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Alvie doesn't think he's worthy, and he doesn't think House enjoys his company.





	crying over broken glass

**Author's Note:**

> some sad but good halvie. fills the 'reunion' square in my trope bingo card!!
> 
> enjoy!

Alvie knows House is just putting up with him. He’s suddenly in his house, forcing him into reuniting with him, into being roommates again. He hates it, he knows he does, he can see it.

God, he’s so in love it hurts— Nolan would say something about how he seeks out toxicity because of his trauma, etcetera etcetera, but he can deal with that later. When he actually gets a therapist again. When his brain works again— he hasn’t taken his medication in a while. He doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter, he’s good, he’s okay, really.

He talks, so much— he tries to help House with his case, he steals a book for him. He knows it’s ridiculous, he knows it’s obvious, and he knows the most he’ll ever get is a mocking glare. All he’ll ever get with Gregory House is a laugh aimed at him, maybe a pity fuck. That’s all he can get, he knows, because he’s not worth much more.

So he stares at him as he’s supposed to watch TV with House.

It doesn’t matter— he’s fine, he’s fine, it’s fine. He talks too much too fast until words are spilling out every corner of his body, until there are no words left to say and he’s left a carcass of nonsense. House puts up with it, of course, says something about how he likes the background noise, and keeps watching TV and keeps eating take-out.

Sometimes House rants about Wilson. About Wilson and his ex-wife now girlfriend; about Wilson and his stupid thick brows and his pretty brown eyes and Alvie’s heart hurts all over because someone loves House and he loves that someone back. It’s not a pretty feeling, knowing how someone is getting what you can only dream of ever having.

House gets immigration off his back— House makes sure he has no good reason to stay at his place, more like.

He has nightmares where House calls him worthless, stupid, why does he like him of all people, you dumb piece of shit—

Alvie always wakes up in a cold sweat, more silent than any time he’s ever fully awake, clinging at the blanket on the couch he’s sleeping at. He goes to get some water, quieter than ever, and he knows House is fast asleep. If he wakes him up he’ll yell, he’ll yell, and he doesn’t want a man to yell at him, he doesn’t want anybody to yell at him.

He’s still caught up in his thoughts, so he drops his glass.

“Oh for God’s sake!” he hears House.

He freezes in the spot, and he’s sure the entirety of Princeton can hear his heart racing. House limps over to the kitchen, and he’s frowning, and he’s opening his mouth, and Alvie can’t stop it— he starts crying.

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry I broke the glass I got distracted and I dropped it and now you’re mad at me and I’m worthless I’m so stupid, I’m sorry I was planning to leave anyway please don’t yell at me, please don’t hit me—”

He can barely see through his tears, but House’s expression softens. “Alvie,” he starts. “I wasn’t going to hit you. Why would I hit you over broken glass? Just clean it up, there’s no issue here.”

Alvie sniffles. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

“You don’t need to apologize every two words.”  
  
“I’m so—” He stops in his tracks and goes to clean the glass up. He manages a weak smile. “Okay… are you sure you’re not mad at me?”  
  
“I don’t think I could be mad at you, really. You’re sunshine personified.” 

Alvie’s heart skips a beat, but he ignores it. He’s already called his cousin, he’s going to Arizona. He’s going to be fine, and he won’t see House ever again. He’s going to be fine. This is just a minor hiccup. This is just him being stupid and worthless.

House limps closer to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Can I kiss it better?” he asks.

He looks up at him. “If you’re just trying to pity fuck me, I’d rather—”

House interrupts him, kisses him, holds his face in his hands. He can feel House’s beard against his chin, and he’s kissing him so so slow and so soft like he’s worth something, like he’s worthwhile, and he holds onto House’s sides, closer, ever closer. House eventually pulls away, cupping his cheek with his hand, wiping his tears away.

“I thought—” Alvie starts, and House kisses him again.

“Shh,” he tells him. “You’re a mess. Let’s get you to bed.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Alvie says. “Why are you— why are you doing this? I know you don’t—”  
  
“Alvie, everything about you is dictated by your self-worth issues. I feel things for you, too. Now let’s get you to bed.” 

“Oh,” he mumbles, following House’s lead, his brain shutting off.

When he manages to pull him into bed, he starts pressing kisses along his neck, along his shoulders. Alvie is so small against House— he’s all skinny and frail and the scars from top surgery make him feel too aware of who he is and what he’s got to do to be in this skin he’s comfortable in.

“House,” he breathes, clinging onto him.

“Sleep,” he says, voice a little rough at the edges.

“Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”  
  
“Yes,” he says. “You’re not dreaming. You’re in my bed. I like you. Now _sleep._ ” 

He wants to say no— he wants to coax meaningless praise out of House’s lips. He wants him to tell him he’s not stupid, tell him he’s worthwhile, tell him he’s good. He needs to drink it up, have House tell him all those things he knows he won’t believe in the long run. He needs House’s attention; he wants to cling onto him and have him show him how much he cares, exactly.

“Shut off that brain of yours,” House grumbles, pressing a mindless kiss to Alvie’s forehead before turning and resting on his side.

Alvie runs his fingers with feather-light touch along House’s back, and he manages to sleep after a while.


End file.
